The Spiral Kingdom had no sun.
It had tits instead—massive, glistening celestial breasts that floated across the sky, leaking warm, golden milk that fell like rain onto the marble cities below.
Each drop fed a womb.
Each stream birthed a world.
And at the heart of it all, atop the highest spire, sat Kaito—the Spiral King—his throne a symphony of tongues and thighs, his cock cradled between the lips of the throne's living mouth, still wet from the Spiral Goddess's womb.
The air smelled like sex.
Time ticked not with clocks, but with moans.
Every second was a sigh.
Every minute—a squirt.
Every hour—a scream of orgasm from one of the thousands of milk maidens kneeling across the glowing halls.
"Kaito-sama…"
It was Kaori—barefoot, breasts swollen, nipples glistening with sacred milk. Her belly was round, already pulsing with a forming child. His child.
She walked toward the throne on trembling legs, her pussy still gushing from earlier pleasure.
